ong ago, somewhere deep in the jungle … resides a pathetic llama, drenched in rainwater, crying himself to sleep. His story begins, however, as a human – an emperor, named Kuzco (David Spade) – who has legions of servants catering to his every whim. And those whims often involve dancing in his grandiose palace, going so far as to toss out anyone who gets in the way of the rhythm of his life. “You threw off my groove!”

When royal advisor Yzma (Eartha Kitt), along with her assistant Kronk (Patrick Warburton), decide to run the kingdom behind Kuzco’s back, it’s certain to be trouble. And the emperor blindly adds fuel to the fire by dismissing Yzma for her unsubtle usurpation endeavors, which prompts her to betray him in a spellbinding manner. He’s also unloved by the peasants who grow his crops and herd his livestock, since he has little concern for their wellbeing and happiness. For his birthday celebration, he plans to demolish an entire town to build a swimming pool – a concept that is particularly despised by kindly village leader Pacha (John Goodman), whose family has resided there for six generations.

“Nobody’s that heartless!” For a spoiled, self-centered, inconsiderate, stubborn, unappreciative kid who naively hurts those around him, it’s obvious that a lesson needs to be learned. And in the form of a Disney cartoon, it’s sure to be whimsical. And though it’s supplemented by plenty of standard slapstick, it’s basic and straightforward, which makes it somewhat less enticing than many of the company’s prior theatrical adventures (supporting roles are so unimportant that their names are virtually unmentioned). It’s in a fairy-tale format, but the characters aren’t particularly unique; here, the villain is elementarily villainous, the moral-compass-hero a blandly righteous figure, and the comic-relief role an inoffensively humorous dunce. There isn’t even a love story, which tends to appear in almost every one of the studio’s animated features (and songs are lacking as well). Perhaps the only unusual storytelling element comes in the form of narration by Kuzco, which interrupts and interferes with the proceedings in lighthearted ways.

The general simplicity of the script, which carries over into the dialogue – a plainness only broken up by Spade’s recognizable voice and constant sarcastic quips, which grow tiresome quite quickly – is comparably present in the animation. Less complex and creative than in previous productions, many of the sequences feel as if lifted from a Looney Tunes episode (complete with goofy sound effects). Even the scruples – illustrated through teamwork, trust, generosity, and kindness – are so pronounced and reiterated that they fail to be meaningful. “You just saved my life.” This applies doubly for the elements of danger, which are frequent and exaggerated, yet couldn’t be more insincere; life-and-death scenarios are handled with the utmost disregard for genuineness. Kuzco is in numerous predicaments, but there’s no doubt he’ll maneuver through them rambunctiously and completely intact.

There’s a certain hipness and modernness to the characters and their conversations, providing a curious contrast to the ancient Incan setting, but it’s not enough to set it apart as a notable project. A few funny moments and a handful of potentially quotable one-liners make “The Emperor’s New Groove” engaging for kids, but it undoubtedly lacks the maturity and potency of Disney’s more magical Renaissance era. “By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.”

– Mike Massie